Chapter 1 — Puddles of the After-rain [bobalon]
In the quiet, she could count the little patters of rainfall that dappled the storefront window. She could hear the low grind of her teaspoon as it circled the rim of her cup, wafting an earthly, yet faintly sweet scent that settled near the tip of her nose. One swirl to accompany the idleness of her thoughts, and a few more to let the moments pass. The way the dimmed light sunk into the surface of deep, verdant green was always calming to her, collecting the miscellany of the workday to one long, slow sigh that slipped past the fold of her fingers. Before she knew it, it was already past closing time.
These past few days had gone by slower than usual. There was the usual stream of customers that visited their humble store—the usual faces Miku could refer to by name and order as soon as they walked through the door, chiming that tiny bell that would sometimes break her away from any self-indulgent daydreaming she found herself caught up in. She prepared the day's ingredients, cleaned the tables, and balanced the budget down to the last hard-worked yen. Just as she had been for the past year and a half. After a while, it had all become expected. Routine. The days would start and end the same, with herself posted at the barstool of the street-facing countertop, with slow and careful sips of matcha tea.
"There's been an overcast the entire day," Miku said to the speakers of her phone placed nearby, watching the light rainfall embellish the street. "And the rain is starting to come in, but it should only be a slight drizzle. I brought my umbrella though, just in case. How are things over there in America?"
"Absolutely gorgeous!" Ichika's voice replied, echoing throughout the empty store. Her older sister had earned herself quite a habit of exclaiming the occasional statement in English during her time overseas. "At least, during the daytime, it was. I've spent almost the entire day at the beach and I just got back. Work has been exhausting lately, so I really needed the time off. Did you get the pictures I sent to you? I'd love to take you girls here; there isn't anyone else here I'd want to go with."
"Not even that one actor you've been dating? What was his name again…? Something-something with a…"
Ichika laughed. "Oh, you heard about that?"
"It's all you'll hear about if you search up 'Nakano Ichika' on social media."
"I guess I wouldn't know then, since I don't usually look that kind of stuff up. Anyway, I wouldn't bother with that. It's just rumors. We fooled around for a little, but things never really clicked between us. I'd like to say he took it pretty well, but…"
"But?"
"Ehh, it's nothing. Point is, people will get bored and stop talking about it after a week or so."
"I see," said Miku, taking another sip of her tea. "That sounds pretty exhausting. Are you sure you're alright over there?"
"It can be, but you get used to it. Either way, I'm doing fine. And how about yourself? It doesn't sound like you're at home right now."
"I'm still here at the bakery."
"Isn't it already past closing time over there? You're not working yourself too hard, are you, Miku?"
"I'm managing fine."
"That, plus with how brief your replies are, don't sound very convincing, you know. Is this a bad time?"
Miku gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Nothing gets by you, Ichika. Sorry. I'll admit, it can be a little tiring these days. It's just me handling the place now, after all."
"Did you want me to talk to Nino about it? I was going to call and check up on her after this."
"It's fine; you don't have to do anything like that. Besides, I don't know if Nino will pick up, knowing how busy she's been."
"Still, leaving you to take care of the entire place on your own…"
"Nino has her reasons. It's not like I resent her for it. We both knew it was coming." Miku sighed. "I just think it probably was a little too soon for us to open our own place. Neither of us have that kind of experience. We knew not to underestimate it, but even then, it was hard. We gave it our all, but…"
The rest of her words were drowned with the slowest sip of her teacup, bleeding the moment away like the trickles of rainwater outside her window.
"When does the place close?"
Miku twisted her lips. The finality of it all still needed its time to completely sink in with her, and a part of her had grown comfortable with the monotony that came behind these doors and within these walls. She placed her teacup down, then glanced over one of the ledgers she had previously opened. "We have… a little less than two months. I put a notice up a few weeks ago for our regulars, and we've packed away a couple of things already. We got a lot more done thanks to Yotsuba helping around whenever she can."
"I see…" Ichika's voice trailed off from the phone speakers. "I'm sorry it didn't work out, Miku. I never got the chance to visit the place either…"
"It's fine. Work has your hands tied. We did learn a lot from our time here, though. Maybe if we find a new place—that is, if Nino still wants to—things might go a little better. I'm hopeful. I really am." She bit the corner of her lip. Why did she have to say it like that? Over and over, as if the words were meant for this dull reflection she found staring back at herself from beyond the window.
"You know," Ichika began, and Miku breathed a quiet sigh of relief that she had not pressed on her hesitated words, "I understand that you two wanted to do this on your own, but don't you think, you know, that maybe you could talk to Dad? He doesn't really know anything about what's going on, and I'm sure he might be able to do… something."
"Nino wouldn't want that," Miku answered plainly. "I wouldn't either. I know what you're going to say about it sounding stubborn, but if I really think about it, I think it's important that we failed and learned from it."
"I understand. Sorry about that."
"It's fine. I know you mean well, Ichika. We'll have to bring it up to Dad eventually, but as for this place here…" She traced her fingertips over the wooden countertop, reliving the many afternoons she spent facing the same street. She saw the seasons soaked in sunshine, and the fallen leaves that made for the autumn litter. She felt the brush of cherry blossom petals against her cheek on that day they proudly decided would be their grand opening. In this particular corner that faced this particular stretch of the street sat the lone student who scribbled note after note as they flipped pages to textbooks. It sat the quiet office worker who sought solace away from the drab-colored walls of his cubicle, buried at the bottom of the coffee cup she carefully brewed herself. And once, this little corner sat the bashful young couple who exchanged their first ever kiss with a shared portion of the tiramisu she and Nino spent so long perfecting their own recipe for.
"Miku? You there?"
Miku shook her head. "Sorry. My mind wandered off a little. It's been happening a little too often."
"When's the last time you've given yourself a day off? It sounds like you need one."
"We're closed on Sundays."
"You know what I mean, Miku. Not just a single day to recharge, but some real time to getaway from all of it. Like a real vacation. I know! Why not come overseas and visit me here? You'll just love it; I know you will! You all will!"
"Maybe you're right," Miku said, gliding her teaspoon around the insides of her empty teacup. "About some time off, I mean. Though, I don't know about going all the way to America."
"I was only joking!" Ichika laughed. "Well, half-joking, Maybe. When I come back and visit, I'm going to drag the rest of you back with me! Hope you picked out a flattering swimsuit."
Miku humored her sister with a chuckle. "You're welcome to try. Anyway, I should probably finish closing up before it gets too late."
"Mhm, sure! I'll see you all when I—oh! Hang on for a sec. Before I go, I forgot to mention something."
"Hm? What is it?"
"I was just checking in with Itsuki-chan before calling you. From what I hear, it sounds like a certain Uesugi Fuutarou-kun will be visiting back home for a while."
Her teaspoon stopped. Uesugi Fuutarou—a name that she had seldom heard after all of these years, and yet, the times where it had crossed her mind would often draw upon the most peculiar thoughts. Miku did not know why, but it became troublesome to think or act or act as usual whenever he became the subject of conversation—like she somehow needed to be mindful of every intonation to her words, and careful with the slight movements that made up her gestures and facial expressions, even if it were only through a phone conversation. It was a long time ago. It was all a long time ago, and yet, why was it difficult to express all of the 'nothing' that she felt?
Still, she felt compelled to at least say something. "Oh, I see. Has he been doing well?"
"No clue!" Ichika answered. "It's been… wow, five years, hasn't it? And it's not like he's kept up all that much since then. Guess it's no surprise how busy he's been—how much all of us have been, really. High school sure was a weird time." There was a slight pause, and she heard a slight puff of air from the other end of the line. "Say, Miku… sorry to ask this out of nowhere, but do you still have any regrets? About that day? About how things have turned out?"
Miku gently scooted out of her barstool, taking the teacup and saucer with her. "It's… hard to say, Ichika. Who knows what reasons we had for doings things when we were younger? Like you said, it's been five years. I think after all this time, it was for the best that we all learned something from it." She stalled her thoughts with slowed steps, taking long looks across the empty shop. "In a way, it's kind of like how things ended up here at this shop. I guess that's why it hasn't really got to me yet, if it means coming back and trying again when I'm a little more grown up."
She heard the hummed thoughts of her sister from the speakerphone. "Mm! That's the right kind of attitude. I'd agree with everything you've said, though… if I were to give my honest answer, I think I would have some regrets."
"You would? That's surprising."
"Just a little," said Ichika, accompanied by the groans of a tired stretch. It was late into her evening, after all. "I just think that things were a lot more fun back then. Even if we all knew it wouldn't last that way forever, a part of me feels like we all moved on a little too well. It may have only been for two years, but I wouldn't have wanted to spend that time any other way. Everything about it seemed like it fell into the right time and right place in our lives. Almost everything, anyway. It's like one moment he was there with us, and then it becomes like… right now. I guess what I'm trying to say is—did it really end up the best way it could have? Or did it have to end at all?"
Miku did not answer her right away. She only let the rattle of the dishes remind her sister that she was still somewhere on the other end of the line. "That… makes sense too. I suppose I never thought about it that way, but I do sort of miss it."
"Sorry, I guess it was my turn to ramble for a little." Ichika laughed. "I say all of this now, but I can't imagine what I would have done differently. It's easy to think like that when I'm halfway across the world now. Anyway, it was just something that was on my mind for a little; sorry if I held you up for too long."
"It's no bother. It's given me… a couple of things to think about, too. "
"Thinking of contacting Fuutarou-kun again, hmm? Who knows, he might still be single after all of this time."
"Ugh! That's not what I meant, Ichika!" Miku blurted out, a little louder than she would have thought. There was no way Ichika could have seen the rosy tints of her cheeks, but that satisfied giggle coming from her phone was all the same. She stomped over. "I'm hanging up, Ichika. Have a good night."
"Bye bye, Miku! Get home safely!"
She tucked her phone back into her bag. Closing the store was the same song and dance as it had always been, and for today especially, Miku felt relieved that she managed to avoid anything more eventful as she made the trip back home. The rain had stayed as a patchy drizzle all the while, its drops strewn about the nearby puddles as thousands of disorderly ripples across the surfaces. A way's later and a few drops lesser, Miku began to furl her umbrella, letting the meager rain fall upon her skin as hundreds of tiny, rejuvenating kisses. She loved moments like this more than anything else. It made solace for the longest days that bled into the shortest evenings, inviting indulgence to her most carefree and listless thoughts.
She stepped back through the door of their apartment, glancing at the hallway mirror and the beads of water that cluttered along the strands of her hair. Home was the same. Her shoes were typically the first to line at the step near the doorway, along with her coat that hung in the living room, replaced with a kitchen apron.
"Itsuki is working late again…" Miku mumbled to herself as she tied her hair. "Let's see… onions, potatoes, not too many carrots, unfortunately. Is this chicken still good? And how much should I even make…?"
Disregarding herself, Miku began her preparations in the kitchen. There was no telling who would be home at what times these days, or if they would even be home at all, but that much hardly mattered to her. Cooking a meal was simply a pleasure. A pleasure that had come less and less over time as their busy lives continued, with less plates and bowls to spread across the dining room table. Ichika had moved out two years ago, and Nino was mostly in and out on a whim. Itsuki and Yotsuba were around, but all of their schedules would sometimes leave little room to enjoy a meal together, just as it was tonight. Still, Miku cooked. Her prowess with a kitchen knife made its way through every station. She mellowed to the sounds of simmering roux, and her spirits lifted along the scents of caramelized onions and roasted garlic.
"Tomorrow is another day," Miku said to herself as she plated the lone dish on the countertop, and the thought repeated in her mind as she covered the remaining portions for her sisters. The hours of the evening trickled away afterwards, and as she laid in bed, Miku began to wonder just what was it that made her end this particular evening in one too many sighs. Their first restaurant's days were coming to end—she already knew that. The few customers that found their way to their entrance were nothing better or worse than what she was used to.
"It really was fun…" The words skirted past any rational thought or reason that could have existed in her head, trailed from her lips as if it were truly that easy. An old box lay opened near the foot of her bed, its contents neatly placed aside until she had found the smaller, safely kept box that packaged her old headphones. Perhaps she could blame her eldest sister for bringing back these wistful memories, once lived vibrantly, then slowly chipped away, like the cracked foam of the headphone cushions. Pieces of the past, where things truly felt simple. Miku forgot exactly when these headphones stopped working, but the thought always troubled her when it came to getting rid of them.
She could never get rid of them.
"I guess," Miku said to herself with one last sigh for that evening, "I do have some regrets after all."
"Tomorrow is another day."
Miku entertained the words more than enough times the night prior. It dragged every reluctant part of her that wished to stay under her bedcovers, and guided every stroke of her brush through the lengths of her long hair. For six days of the week—from the early hours of the morning to late lunch—'tomorrow' began facing the glass door of their restaurant, jingling that tiny bell as they stepped in. It was carefully laying out the dessert display and grinding the coffee beans, filling their space in the light and bitter-laced scent of many 'welcomes' and 'good mornings'.
Her finger lifted the corner of the opening sign, then stopped.
"A day off, huh…" Miku muttered to herself. It all seemed a little too late to entertain the idea, but the more she stalled herself with meaningless back-and-forth strides, the more tantalizing it all seemed. It was still early in the morning—much sooner than the usual hustle and bustle that made for everyone else's time. Perhaps. Just maybe. Or if it were a different day, perchance.
"I can't. We still have inventory we need to clear…"
"Would it ruin Yamashita-san's morning if he got his morning coffee somewhere else today…?"
"Did we have any final shipments coming in…?"
"I already thought about which desserts to lay out…"
"I should probably call Nino…"
Each excuse sounded less and less convincing to her, and Miku could only respond with a pout towards her own reflection. Surely, she must kook ridiculous right now—pacing back and forth and mumbling to herself—but something about today felt like it did not need to belong to the routine. Something that did not quite need any rhyme nor reason—only a decision, even if it were only off a whim.
And so, for that wistful 'tomorrow' she dreamt the evening before that now sounded a little too ordinary, too uneventful, and too fleeting, Miku took it upon herself to spare just one day. One less day for the few that remained of mornings just like this, sounded by that familiar chime as she stepped back out into the street.
"Nakano's will be closed today.
We will resume business on Thursday.
We apologize for the short notice, and for any inconvenience."
—Nakano Nino and Nakano Miku, Owners
It might not have been the ideal time off. She could have let herself enjoy a little more time in bed, or a few moments longer to think over her outfit, but there was no use lamenting over trivial things. Simply existing opposite of the flow of the usual Tokai rush hour already felt like the proper start. The puddles of the after-rain glistened as, higher and brighter, the morning sun stirred the life of everything and everyone around her. And as each step came to her as spontaneous as the last, Miku let her first instincts take her in any direction.
For today, she would purposefully indulge. She let herself wander the aisles of the first bookstore she stumbled upon, tracing her finger across the spines until something caught her eye. Just how long had it been since she last visited these sorts of sections? New publications of the Sengoku Period lined the shelves, detailing the more obscure and long-thought-forgotten parts of the daimyos lives, down to their closest relations with their subordinates, when Miku once thought of herself as well-versed in every title and work she had access to. After all, what more could be unraveled of a period that has long since been studied? But here it was, some six or so years after its first publication, that turned the nine-part series to twelve. Of course, she owed it to herself to take up the new titles, but as she counted the numbers backwards, "Volume twelve, volume eleven… nine? Huh? Where is the…"
She counted again, and once more. Out of stock.
"Hmph..." Miku pouted. For this moment, she had become Ouchi Yoshitaka, gazing up the summation of their untrammeled wealth, and whoever purchased the tenth volume alone had become Sue Harukata, the traitor that ended this short, blissful life she had found within these aisles. "Curse you, Sue Harukata…" she grumbled, then routed her way to the next bookstore.
For a late lunch, she wished to try something new, and when she first read the words 'croffle' plastered across the window of the most eye-catching café within her current street, Miku knew exactly where she would go next. A toasted croissant and waffle hybrid, equal parts sweet as it was savory, with matcha custard, powdered sugar, and a scoop of pistachio ice cream to the side, paired with an oat latte. And if pictures could never disappoint, then surely this first bite should taste like—
"What is this?!" Miku almost felt as if she had bit into the crispened exterior of a cloud, mixed with the first bitter, then savory finish of matcha. The ridges of the waffle pattern caught flavors that felt purposefully made for her tastes, and the crunch of the croissant made the texture of every bite a delicacy of decadence. She wanted more of this. She wanted to snatch the recipe with each subsequent bite, twisting every little detail until it became her own. That was perhaps her most favorite part about culinary school, and Miku wondered long had it been since she ventured so ardently with new tastes. Back then, it was easy. They had made for a combined five stomachs under one roof, and each day was a wealth of opportunity she would never waste, down to their last calorie.
Fork still clasped between her lips, Miku pondered. She could not help herself. This was the kind of place that pulled the right kind of attention. The western decor turned the necks of every passerby; the sweet and delectable scents drew them in by the nose. The workers had the smile of a good night's rest, and everyone who came in looked as if they could stay there the entire day, just like she was now. The sort of place she and Nino wanted.
"I wonder what Nino is doing right about now," Miku thought to herself. "Does she have her own plans as well? Or has she already let everything…."
A few skips and laughter drew her attention elsewhere, and it was then did Miku realize how much time in the day had already past. The nearby schools had already dismissed, and the carefree youth had begun to trickle their way through the city. Miku knew the uniform all too well. The black blazers with white piping along the edges and lapel, worn over white button-up long-sleeves and tucked into lime-green skirts. Asahiyama's uniform—her old uniform.
Now, Miku understood why these streets carried that vague sense of familiarity to her. Some way's away, west of the school's main entrance. Close enough where they could comfortably walk, but far enough that it didn't make the usual shops she and her sisters would normally find themselves in during those days that seemed like so long ago. Her sisters, and him.
For a stroll, Miku felt like she wanted some place familiar. Her memory was not perfect, and the years had warped the resemblances she thought she carried, but surely, it was somewhere here. The same feelings of 'something' that compelled her to take this uneventful day off—that reasonless, unprovoked urge that 'something' worthwhile would come from this day of all days. One more corner, and past this building that she could vaguely remember as a two-point-three-star udon shop. She remembered how hidden it all seemed, like it was a passageway to a place not meant for just anyone.
If it was, then did she, or any of her sisters for that matter, have any right to be back here?
If there was anytime where she could have had those thoughts, it would have been long before she had turned down this particular section of the street. It felt different coming here alone. Back then, it was the six of them, and all the while, he told stories he thought would never be shared—at least, not by him. Miku wondered, what exactly was he thinking back then? Before all those borders had been drawn, and before that day that changed everything, what else laid underneath the surface of his words? If only she had been a little closer to him back then, perhaps she could have salvaged something about the kinds of people they had become to each other.
If it were one regret, that would be it. And if she had not realized it when Ichika had asked her, how could she have known back then, either?
Miku had almost missed it.
A storefront laid bare. The drab and dented shutter door that covered the entrance made the place nothing more distinguishable from the bricks that made for the walls, and the paint had begun to peel away across the surface. The faded remnants of letters, washed and weather-beaten of whatever remained of the name it had once been given. The years had made Miku doubt her own memory when it had once been told to her.
'Uesugi's'—no, that did not seem quite right. It was not that simple.
'Uesugi Family Restaurant'—no, it did not sound that direct.
Perhaps a food that sounded like his last name—'Unagi-something'—nope, that seemed like the worst guess, and Miku was sure there was nothing mentioned of seafood.
Why was she even mulling over it? What even compelled her to come back to this spot that had remained unchanged for over a decade, as if there really were something worthwhile here? She knew this little outing was never meant for anything eventful, but why now, as she glanced at this abandoned restaurant, did she feel this sense of disappointment?
And as the thought crossed her mind, Miku turned to the rattle of a keyring.
"Oi."
Time had never felt stranger for her. Count the days to their very last seconds, and Miku would have found sense in what shaped the look in an old acquaintance's eyes. Five years explained the lengths that made for someone's new hairstyle, or the tastes that outfitted new clothing styles when they all had once recognized each other in the same colors. She could call out, and the vestiges of voices still so familiar to her would bring her back to times that now felt so fleeting and so fragile, as if the bell of homeroom were no more than a few passing seconds away.
And five years were enough for that dimmed golden gleam in those eyes to belong to a stranger.
Fuutarou raised a brow.
"Which… one were you?"
A/N: Hello, Hello! Thanks for making it all the way down here! I'll be your pilot for this first chapter—the name's bobalon! For those who might have missed or forgotten the foreword, this will be a story relay, passed chapter-by-chapter between different authors. We spun the wheel and the little triangle-arrow-thing decided I would be the one starting things off, so here we are. I've been writing for the 5toubun community since November 2020, sticking closely to my Ichika longfic, 'Everything'. This will be my first time tackling a fic with a new leading lady. Personally, Miku is my third favorite quint, and while I absolutely adore her, she's proven to be the most difficult quint for me to try and write. Either way, this is what I've managed to put together with my allocated time. I sincerely hope it's been to your enjoyment :)
Next stop, Chapter 2!
"spin the wheel, spin the wheel…"_φ(。。) —bobalon